


We All Make Mistakes

by KaneCorp



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Face Slapping, Femdom, Footjob, Gift Fic, Now he has to lie in it, OC, Verbal Humiliation, lucio opened this can of worms, sub lucio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 17:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaneCorp/pseuds/KaneCorp
Summary: Evelyn nearly spits her next words, her voice thick with venom, “I’d love to see you crawl through the mud for just an ounce of the glory you think you deserve.”Lucio’s jaw drops.or: Evelyn (my friend's apprentice) tells lucio that he's a massive douche and lucio Likes it





	We All Make Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gonnaslapaboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonnaslapaboo/gifts).



> this is a gift fic for my boo, Boo
> 
> check out my bestie at http://gonnaslapaboo.tumblr.com/ and check her art at http://loafdog.tumblr.com/ !!

Evelyn knew she probably shouldn’t be doing this, but she’d sooner eat her own foot than let Lucio get away with using his station as an excuse to be an unfettered dickbag. Gilded halls and lush carpets pass by as she follows the path to the count’s private bathing chambers, her brows set and shoulders squared. According to one of the kitchen staff, a serving girl had tripped and smeared the count’s brunch across his clothing, to which Lucio’s response had been a tongue-lashing so fierce the poor girl had already started crying before having her thrown into the Humiliation Pit. Evelyn didn’t have much issue with the Humiliation Pit, so long as the punishment suited the crime, but dropping food? That’s completely ridiculous!

The gossamer silks that curtained the entrance to the open-air baths flutter outwards into the hallway in a breeze as she nears them. Evelyn doesn’t wait. She forges ahead, pushing the curtains to the side with one hand, storming into the humid air of the baths. A fresh change of clothes is set to one side with Lucio’s golden arm next to it, Lucio himself lounging in the perfumed waters. Evelyn pays it no mind as she approaches his form near the water’s edge.

Lucio startled as she entered, water sloshing gently as he turned half towards the entrance, intent on scolding whomever disturbed his leisure time, only to recognize his favorite servant. Who is currently glaring at him very intensely. That’s odd. Perhaps she needed cheering up, desperate to be in his presence, so she rushed to his side without thinking of how to engage him? Well, he was nothing if not gracious towards his lover, so he let a snide grin twist his lips upwards before addressing her, “Looking for me, darling?” He doesn’t get the reaction he’s looking for.

Evelyn’s voice is as firm as her stare, “Stand up.” His grin falters for a breath before returning. Lucio stands slowly, letting the water run down his form as he turns to fully face Evelyn.

“My, you’re being very dema-” he doesn’t get any farther before a sharp CRACK resounds throughout the chamber. For a moment, he’s stunned, unsure of what exactly had just happened. Then pain blossoms in his cheek and he realizes his head had been turned by the sheer force of Evelyn’s palm striking his face. His expression is incredulous when he looks back at her, his hand rising to the stinging mark on his cheek. “What the f-”

“You’re pathetic sometimes, you know.” His jaw slams shut and his eyes go wide at her words. She continues, “You think you can act like a spoiled brat just because you can call yourself a Count?” The anger in her eyes flares as she takes a breath, chin tilted up in defiance.

The count’s hand lashes out, grabbing a fistful of the fabric of Evelyn’s top, wrenching her bodily towards himself as he snarls in her face, “Who do you think you _are_ that you can talk to me like that?” Water seeps into Evelyn’s clothes were it drips from his flesh, but she does not waver.

“A person, Lucio, just like that serving girl, and just like _you_ ,” her brows are furrowed, making her disappointment clear on her face. She holds her ground, nose to nose with the Count of Vesuvia.

A moment passes before Lucio throws his hand to the side, releasing Evelyn’s shirt as he barks a laugh. He moves to return to his bath, his voice is slick with self-satisfaction when he says, “Not all men are created equal. You should know this by now, dove.” He’s a step back from her now, half-turned away.

Evelyn nearly spits her next words, her voice thick with venom, “I’d love to see you crawl through the mud for just an  _ounce_ of the glory you think you deserve.”

Lucio’s jaw drops. He stares at her, shocked, and for a moment Evelyn fears she might have finally said the thing that pushes him over the edge. That he’ll decide she isn’t worth his trouble anymore, but she stands by her morals. Her fists clench at her sides in the silence before Lucio speaks.

“That’s-,” his voice cracks, “that’s quite possibly the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.” For a moment a blush rises on his stunned face before his expression quickly changes, a lascivious grin dominating his features. “Is there any way I could get you to say more?” Lucio’s voice is a veritable purr in his throat.

Evelyn pauses, caught off-guard by the sudden shift, but she’s familiar enough with the games the count likes to play. She’s still furious, of course, so he’s not going to get what he wants that easily. She crosses her arms over her chest, raising a brow at him when she speaks, “You’re in trouble Lucio, and don’t think you’re getting off easy.”

He chuckles lowly, “I never get off easy when you’re involved.” She rolls her eyes at that. Lucio raises his hand to try and press it to her cheek, but Evelyn slaps it away. He scoffs at her, “Relax. That girl will be released on the hour,” and he raises his hand again, this time Evelyn grips his wrist and forces it down.

His brows furrow stubbornly before she speaks, “I told you. You’re a self-entitled fool suffering from illusions of grandeur,” she lets her eyes lid seductively, relaxing her shoulders back. “If you want something, you have to convince me you deserve it.”

A shiver runs across Lucio’s shoulders. “Of course, dear,” they’ve flirted with this game before, and Lucio has always been eager to play it. He lets his hand relax in her grasp and leans down to her level, noses brushing as he speaks through a returning grin, “Just how would you have me prove myself?”

Evelyn releases her grip on his wrist, letting it fall as she stares imperiously back at him. She gives a simple command, voice steel, “Kneel.”

Lucio raises a brow. “Here? In the water?”

“There. In the water.” Her tone leaves no room for confusion.

Lucio does as bid, lowering himself into the water, immersed up to just above his waist as he takes his place. The entire time he watches Evelyn’s face, eyes simmering with lust and a smirk on his lips. After he's seated, he gestures with his open palm to indicate himself, saying, “Well? How do you like it? This view of the Count of Vesuvia, kneeling before you?”

Evelyn considers for a moment, then, “Could be better.” Lucio scowls at that, but he doesn’t get to complain before she continues, “You’re supposed to be convincing me, Lucio, not acting smug.” She stares down at him patiently despite her words, watching the twitch in his flanks through the clear water as she slides a foot forward in silent command.

The scowl only lasts a second longer before Lucio grumbles and huffs, leaning forward towards her leg to let his nose graze the line of her shin. He looks up at her through his lashes, purring when he speaks, “As you say, Mistress.” Evelyn feels a shiver race down her back as she looks down at him, heat settling low in her gut at his tone. His hand rises as he tries to sit up on his knees, moving upwards and inwards, closer to Evelyn’s center, hand moving to rest on her hip. Before he can make contact though, Evelyn takes a sharp step back, her hand lashing out again to connect with the count’s untouched cheek.

Lucio spits a swear as he reels back, falling back onto his heels, water splashing around him, and glares up at Evelyn. His voice is harsh, loud and echoing off the walls, “What the fuck was it this time?!” He’s rubbing his hand over a red mark on his cheek where the impact struck. Although, Evelyn muses, it seems the rest of his face is red too, and for a much different reason. It’s charming.

Evelyn’s eyes dance with amusement but she doesn’t let it show in her voice, keeping it cold and firm, “I _told_ you, Lucio. You have to _convince_ me that you deserve what you want.” A glower falls across her face then, “ I’m tired of you taking things for granted. Right now you’re not allowed to just do whatever you want, do you understand me?” Lucio shudders visibly, his cheeks flaring more when he realizes how obvious he is, fist clenching against his thigh now.

His jaw clenches, tendons jumping under the skin of his neck while he chews on a sigh, letting it blow out through his nose. His fingers clench and unclench against his thigh before he speaks, “Yes, Mistress.” Lucio’s voice is tight in his throat now, but he invited this on himself, and that stubborn pride of his urges him on. His shoulders are still pulled back in his usual posture but he lets himself lean forward, ducking his head somewhat as he talks through gritted teeth, “What would you like me to do, then?” He almost sounds reluctant, but the furrow of his brow and the stiffening erection between his legs make his enjoyment clear. Evelyn spares him, and stops herself from snickering.

She retakes her place in front of him, proferring her foot to him once again. “Apologize properly first. Then, kiss it,” she waggles her foot a bit to emphasize what she means by ‘it’. Lucio shakes again, whether from trying to control his reaction or from sheer arousal, Evelyn is unsure, but she enjoys the sight either way.

They’re at the side of the baths, away from the steps that let one enter gradually, so Lucio’s knees are pressed near to the wall of the bath. It lets him lean down, red still high on his cheeks as he follows her order. He leans until his forehead nearly meets the marble tile at her feet, bowing before her. “My apologies, Mistress,” his voice is slightly muffled against the tile, but Evelyn hears it clear enough. She bites her lip to stifle her excitement.

Lucio plants a kiss to the top of Evelyn’s outstretched foot, delicately with sure pressure, before pulling back and looking back up at her. His cock is hard in the water between his thighs, the sight tantalizing combined with his submission. Why had Evelyn never done this sooner? She pulls her foot back, puts a hand on her hip, and let’s a smile play upon her lips as she observes the count. “Look at you,” her voice is warm with satisfaction as she teases him, “Count Lucio, the most powerful man in Vesuvia, naked and on his knees for me, a simple palace servant.” She purrs her words, and the effect it has on him is apparent, trembles wracking his thighs as he scowls at his own reaction.

He looks like he wants to say something, a complaint maybe, or a denial, but his jaw clenches again and he casts his gaze aside. A tremor of excitement runs through Evelyn before she decides to push him further, “What? Is this not enough?” Confusion flashes behind Lucio’s eyes before she continues, “If you want more, then _convince_ me.” Her lips are canted in a smirk as she says it, her voice low and smokey.

A breath hisses in between Lucio’s teeth, sharp and hard. His lips purse before he closes his eyes, his hand finally relaxing flat against his thigh when he breathes out. He opens his eyes and meets Evelyn’s gaze, licks his lips before he says what he knows she wants to hear. “ _Please_ ,” his voice cracks as he says it, snapped under the stress of his own inner conflict with his desires, and he immediately looks scandalized and afronted at the sound.

This time Evelyn does snicker, the sight of Lucio’s hips twitching under the water as his voice breaks on a plea almost too good to believe. Nearly as quickly as he was upset by his own voice, he’s upset by Evelyn’s laughter, his blush a furious red and reaching to his ears and neck. She doesn’t let him suffer for long, her tone smug “Good enough.” Swiftly her foot rises, planting itself squarely on his chest. She can feel his heartbeat pound underneath the sole of her foot, Lucio’s expression contorting in alarm when she gives a firm shove.

Lucio flails. He’d deny it later, because a Count simply does not flail, but what else would one call the way he scrambled to catch himself with his one good arm, water splashing erratically as he was pushed nearly onto his back? He’s submerged up to his armpits now, legs splayed out before him and his weight supported on his hand behind him, erection at attention. Indignation is clear on his face, but he gets no chance to complain. Evelyn has already kicked off her shoes and stepped into the water, letting the hem of her skirt soak through as she advances on his prone form.

Lucio’s eyes go wide at her next words, “Let me give you what you deserve, dear Count.” Evelyn grips her skirt near her thighs, hoisting it up as she raises a foot. Another sharp inhale comes from Lucio as her foot makes contact, coming down gently through the waters to land on his throbbing member. The pressure is light, wary of actually harming him in her brusqueness. They spend a moment like that, letting the water settle around them. Only a moment, though.

A groan rumbles from Lucio’s chest as Evelyn grinds her heel against him, his eyelids fluttering and brows still pinched in confusion. She does it again, calluses from hard work pressing rough against the sensitive skin of his cock, and his hips roll up into the pressure. He pants a quick breath before seeking clarification, “Mmm, is this-” she presses her toes against the head of his cock, making him groan again, “Is this supposed to be my reward?” A hum of affirmation is the response he gets. It’s not exactly the response he expected.

He sits up, disrupting Evelyn’s balance, and uses his hand to grab hold of her ankle. There’s a predatory grin on his lips as he rolls his hips up, moving her foot against himself as he pleases. He slides that hand further up her calf, a sensual slide against her skin. “I was hoping for something a little more…,” his hand has brushed past her knee on it’s ascent, and he continues huskily, “well, _more_.” Once again, her response is not the one Lucio expected.

Evelyn snakes her fingers into his hair, gripping gently to allow his delusion for a moment. She gives a placid smile, “Did you now?” That smile twisting into a scowl is all the warning he gets before she yanks his head back and moves her foot off his member to stand steady once more. Her sneer is audible as she continues, “I thought I told you that you get what you deserve. Did you really think a simple ‘please’ would get you anything more than this?” A whimper makes its way past Lucio’s lips.

The sound stops them both where they are, Evelyn surprised and Lucio mortified. A grin crawls onto her lips as she gets an idea. A harsh shove sends Lucio falling back into the water, his hair a mess, and aroused confusion his most prominent emotion. She takes a step back from him, approaching the edge of the pool, her words filling the spaces between his racing thoughts. “Fine,” he looks to her, startled, “If you’re going to be so greedy, then you can do it yourself.” She says nothing more, bending her knees to sit comfortably on the marble tiles behind her, her skirt trailing once again into the water.

“...Excuse me?” the words are barely audible as they tumble from Lucio’s lips.

Her face falls into a hard frown. “Did I stutter?”

He sits stunned for a moment, at war with his own reactions. He’s the fucking Count of Vesuvia, for god’s sake, and here he is, _whimpering_ at being tossed around. Granted, it is by a rather talented hand (as he’s learned from previous encounters), but the point still stands! At the same time… the point isn’t the only thing standing. His erection throbs almost painfully now, hot and needy beneath the water. Evelyn is silent while he considers, watching the thoughts race behind his eyes. It’s only a second longer before Lucio reaches a decision.

He shifts to sit properly once again, indignance flushing his face in crimson as the water sloshes around him. It’s only once he moves to wrap his hand around his straining cock does Evelyn speak again. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” She tries to keep her voice steady, but it wobbles subtly with insecurity, and she bites her lip. She doesn’t want to go any farther than he’s comfortable with, and she’s already pushed her luck so much, but he looks so _good_ on his knees like that. She can’t help herself from wanting more.

Lucio’s brows furrow and he grunts angrily, trying to retain his pride even as he is, “You told me to do it myself! Exactly how the hell else am I supposed to do that?!” He’s pulled his hand away, despite his words.

“I meant,” Evelyn swallows, words sticking a little in her mouth, “For you to use this.” When she says ‘this’, she taps her fingers against her knee, raising her foot slightly to indicate her whole leg. She stares him down as his jaw drops, “It’s the only thing you’re allowed to touch.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” the word is said softly, and with feeling. Next Lucio is shifting, moving closer to her leg as instructed. He straddles her shin and puts his hand on the tiles near where she sits, to brace himself as he raises onto his knees. He’s relieved she allows it, cursing at himself internally for being relieved she ‘let’ him do anything. He’s simply letting her tell him what to do, that’s it. He doesn’t feel erotically compelled to obey, that would be ridiculous. Definitely.

…….. Who is he kidding? Not her, and certainly not himself. He lets go of as much of his pride as he can, breathing a sigh before looking up to Evelyn’s face as he finally makes contact with the wet cloth of her skirt. It’s rough to the touch, but he rocks his hips a couple of times before asking, “Like this, right?” His voice wavers as he says it and he curses himself again.

She bites her lip, excitement buzzing beneath her skin like a frantic guest. It’s exhilarating, having Lucio look at her like this. She makes a silent vow to do this again before she answers him verbally, “Like that.” Another battle is fought behind Lucio’s eyes, his jaw tensing and his eyes averting. One more sigh escapes him before he rolls his hips again, eyes shutting against the friction.

The fabric is coarse, unkind to the skin of his dick. He wishes for a moment that it were a fine silk, and decides the first thing he’s doing once they’re done here is to send the tailor to her. She needs something much nicer to wear if this is going to happen again. Not that it necessarily will, but, well, it pays to be cautious. He’s gotten off to much rougher sensations, so it will do for the here and now. A firm press into her leg drags a low groan from his throat, and he feels Evelyn shiver above him.

He keeps his thrusts short, focusing more on pressure than speed, staccato breaths saturating the air above Evelyn’s lap. A minute passes like this, Lucio shivering against her leg as he focuses on his pleasure. His eyes drifted shut at some point, but they open when he feels her run her hand under his chin, tilting it up to look into her face. The eye contact makes him remember exactly where he was again, and his face burns with fresh heat.

Evelyn keeps her fingers under his chin, petting softly as she drinks in the expression on his face. She speaks before she thinks, words soft with awe, “You’re an absolute mess.” A fresh groan tightens his throat and his hips stutter at her words. It doesn’t escape her notice. She presses her leg against him firmer with her next words, “Humping away at my leg like some kind of animal. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

The words accompanied by the extra pressure against his cock makes his expression pinch, another whimper fighting past his teeth. Evelyn uses her other hand to pet Lucio’s cheeks softly, “You sound like you want something.” His eyes open, blearily staring into her face, begging without words. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” His chest shudders around a moan as her hands cradle his head, fingers stroking gently behind his ears. He doesn’t say anything though, and at that Evelyn pulls her leg back. “Speak.”

The loss of contact makes Lucio swear, but it gives his thoughts time enough to clear so he can form a sentence. He searches for the words he thinks she wants, gritting his teeth as he decides on his words, “I want to feel your skin on my cock.” He pants a breath and realizes his mistake as her lips pull into a frown, then rushes to finish with, “Please, Mistress. Please let me feel your skin.”

Placated, Evelyn smiles deifically down at him. “I’ll let you have that, I suppose.” With that, she pulls her hands away from Lucio’s face, though he tries to follow the contact before he catches himself. He scowls at himself while Evelyn gathers her skirt, pulling it up to expose the skin of her leg. After securing the fabric in her lap she takes Lucio’s face delicately into her hands again before pressing her leg forward into the heat of his erection, “Continue.”

Lucio does not need to be told twice.

He presses forward eagerly, moaning at the relief of her softer skin against him. He’s frantic this time, having been denied his pleasure too many times, now he’s anxiously chasing after it. The sight of Lucio so desperate makes Evelyn bite her lip, and she holds his head firmer, pointing him towards her face. His eyes are lidded, but she wants his attention. Her fingers snake into his hair once more, and she pulls, dragging his head back and a broken moan from his lips. She leans down, closer to his face, speaking just loud enough to be heard, “What do we say when we’re given a gift?” Her eyes burn into him, and he shakes.

He takes a moment to swallow, to gather his breath, trying to have some modicum of dignity when he speaks, but he still sounds winded and raw when he tells her, “Thank you, Mistress.” Evelyn purrs in satisfaction and eases her grip on his hair, letting his head fall forward, instead petting his golden hair softly while he whines. Lucio’s hips snap through the water, loud and echoing in the open room.

Moans are coming freely from him now, hips losing their rhythm. Lucio swears intermittently, coarse punctuations between the desperate sound of his hips and his moans. Evelyn loves it. She cradles his head, fingers easing his jaw open while he loses himself, ensuring every sound is unobstructed. He looks so close, brows pinched and face flushed, and she thinks he’s worked hard enough. Maybe he’s earned a bit of mercy. Calling what she does next ‘merciful’ might be a bit of a stretch, but he loves it anyways.

Her fingers run through his hair as she watches his face, and puts the final nail in his debauched coffin. She grins wide, catching his attention, and murmurs, “You really _are_ pathetic.” With those words she leans far enough to kiss him, open and wet, at the same time she meets the thrust of his hips with a push of her own, and Lucio _whines_ , broken and low as he cums.

His mess paints her knee and the edge of her skirt, likely staining the cheap fabric. She allows him a few more moments of gentle petting while he recovers his breath, humming to him softly. When Lucio opens his eyes and sits straighter they share a smile before he lets himself sink back into the water in exhaustion. He chuckles as her fingers play through his hair, enjoying the tender moment. An uncharacteristic tinge of insecurity stains his words when he speaks though, “What the actual fuck was all of that?”

Evelyn hums shortly, “It was fun, whatever it was.” She gets a hum in response, the answer apparently accepted. She chances a question, “Can we do it again?” Lucio laughs.

“Right now? I don’t think I have it in me, dove.” His tone is reaching prior levels of self-satisfaction. Evelyn thumps her hand against the back of his head and scoffs.

“You didn’t even get me off, don’t sound so smug.” She rolls her eyes, but Lucio stiffens where he’s relaxing between her legs.

“Shit.” He sounds almost genuinely worried when he starts turning to face her again, “Let me take care of that.” Evelyn closes her legs against his roving touch, pushing him gently away as she tries to stand.

“Mm, no, it’s fine. I still have work I have to do, and I’ve already spent too long in here.” Water drips from her legs once she leaves the bath, leaving a trail of droplets behind her. Lucio watches as she slips the fabric from her waist, using the dry parts to wipe the mess and water from her legs. When she bunches it up and sets it aside the pile of his fresh clothes, he sits up.

When she starts pulling his clean pants from under his shirt, he speaks up. “What are you doing with my clothes?”

Evelyn responds while slipping the expensive fabric of his breeches onto her legs, marveling a moment at the texture, “I told you, I have work to do. I can’t work in a wet skirt with your cum all over it.”

Lucio huffs indignantly, “I don’t see why not. Having something of my person with you should be a badge of honor.” She rolls her eyes at him again, slipping her shoes back onto her feet.

They wave to each other from across the room when she leaves, Evelyn wearing his surprisingly comfortable tailored pants, and Lucio accepting that he’ll have to walk back to his rooms pantsless. God help the people he passes on the way.


End file.
